Come Fly With Me
by Lancynth
Summary: Sequal to Fly Me To The Moon, no pairings really tho some implications of a few. Noin narrates a dispute over chocolate rights and the solutions that come out of it.


Come Fly With Me  
  
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Disclaimer--I don't own Gundam Wing, and probably won't until the rights are sold at single digits. Certainly I don't own Hershey's or Starbucks, and "Come Fly With Me" is by Frank Sinatra. In fact, I don't even own my own box of band-aides. Yeah, pretty bad, huh?  
  
Warning--Assumptions concerning what they will use to make coffee in the future (I think chocolate substitute already exists, but sucks). Caffeine. Don't tell me you don't know the dangers of caffeine. or worse, caffeine combined with something else we all know and love?  
  
After the Chocolate War from my previous ficlet "Fly Me To The Moon". ;) What, did you think I would forget about Mariemaia? Just because the Eve Wars ended on a chocolate note doesn't mean other events were avoided. Noin's narrative continues.  
  
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Alright already! Hold your horses. Indulge me in my old age, okay? I'm getting to the "ever after" bit. It just takes time.  
  
You remember how the Eve Wars ended, right? Of course you do--I just told you! Well, it seems more appropriate to call that the "Chocolate War". I know the history books are starting to take up that name for it, though the televised series they came out with (cartoon, of course, thanks to Duo) was pretty far off from the reality. On that note--the real name for the war, I mean, not the cartoon business--I think the new World Alliance is still considering making chocolate a controlled substance. I hope they don't try- -Zechs would throw a fit. Or, well, maybe not. I think he /would/ hijack another chocolate shipment, though. . . or worse, coming up with something else.  
  
Yeah, pushing him into doing that /again/ probably isn't a good idea.  
  
On the other hand, considering the Caffeine War, can you blame them for that idea?  
  
Oh. So you /didn't/ hear about that one! I know they made it into a cartoon movie, too, though. Hrm. Well, I can't say I blame Wufei from trying to keep it silent. You see, he really embarrassed himself by accepting Mariemaia's offer and helping out with the unauthorized party. That led to the rest. Not that it was entirely bad--at the end, something amazing came from it all!--but, well. . .  
  
Some people should never be allowed to play with volatile foodstuffs. . .  
  
Oh my! You mean--how can you NOT know about volatile foodstuffs? Heck, we were practically warned against them in training! Chocolate's one of them, which is why it was banned in Lake Victoria. But there are others, you know, like Red Bull, Mountain Dew, large-solid-see-through-crystals-of- sugar, Veggie Booty (I am /never/ giving Zechs another bag before he flies a mobile suit, not since the salt gave him heart-palpitations while flying that damn Tallgeese! I don't care if the bag says only 8% RDA per serving-- the sheer quantity he consumes just has dangerous effects!). . . And some combinations can be even worse.  
  
Anyway, back to the story.  
  
Treize, you can understand, ducked into hiding as soon as he saw the face carved on the moon. Smart man--I don't think Zechs liked hearing how his old friend had suggested killing him simply because he'd a surfeit of sugar, so keeping a low, pretty non-existent profile was a good plan. In fact, Treize spread word of his own death. I don't think you can make a profile go lower than that, can you?  
  
Most of us who knew Treize knew better, especially as /we/ supposedly killed him, but we didn't say anything. If he wanted to play dead (and I couldn't blame him for that tactic because I had a fair urge to trample the man's rose-bushes myself), more power to him. At least it got Treize out of playing psychological and philosophical political games. The man's a nuisance.  
  
I keep telling Zechs that Treize needs a hobby.  
  
He just replies that anything Treize would choose as a hobby would probably be even worse for humanity, and that we may as well stick to the devil we know.  
  
I'm starting to think he might have a point.  
  
Oh, yes, I think I forgot to explain what happened to the rest of us after the Chocolate War.  
  
Erm. . .  
  
Well, you know how high all that sugar takes you, rather like getting swept up by a tidal wave?  
  
Of course, like all waves, it has a limit for how long it lasts.  
  
It crashed.  
  
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Noin felt a surge of disappointment and weariness as she climbed out of her favorite white Taurus, and frowned when she just saw Howard with the Tallgeese. Instinct kicked in. //Something is wrong. . . very wrong.//  
  
"Howard. . . ?" she asked, feeling her heart sinking in her boots.  
  
The old scientist shook his head and sighed, looking over the Leo prototype. "I tried to stop him, Miss Noin, but no luck. . ." he sighed.  
  
//Tried to stop. . . ? Zechs?!?// "Wha--what happened? Where is he? If he's /still/ on all that sugar--!"  
  
"I don't think so. . . and that is the problem. He's gone." Howard made a face, swinging about to look at Noin apologetically, and handed forth a note. "He dropped down, handed over the keys and this, and muttered something about finding a rock to burying himself under."  
  
//A /rock/. . . ?// Noin rubbed at her face blearily. //Not that I'd mind joining him under one. I feel like avoiding humanity for a good ten years myself.// "Did he say how long?" she asked nonchalantly, cracking open the note.  
  
It read:  
  
Noin,  
  
Goodbye.  
  
Thank you.  
  
Z  
  
"He really /does/ write short messages when he's depressed, I guess. This is the shortest yet." //He must really be feeling low. Usually he at least adds a verb or two.//  
  
The elderly scientist's eyes bulged a moment at her over his sunglasses, astonished. "You. . . But I thought you two cared for each other! He's gone to commit suicide, and you want to know how /long/ he'll be at it?"  
  
Noin blinked at Howard, then shook her head with a faint smile, without enough remaining energy to laugh as she usually would have. //Suicide?// "We /do/ care for each other, Howard. . . Zechs hasn't gone to kill himself, though."  
  
She tossed the man her keys, and turned to head for the nearest possible bed, still smiling to herself. //Suicide. . . It's too boring for Zechs to bother trying. There's no challenge in it.//  
  
Howard gaped after her like a stranded fish, and managed to call as she reached the door to the hangar, "If he's not killing himself--what the heck /is/ he doing?"  
  
This time a laugh /did/ manage to form in Noin's throat, as she looked back at the poor man. //Poor Howard. You really have no idea? The higher we fly, the farther we fall--and Zechs was flying pretty damn high.//  
  
"Sulking!"  
  
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Now royal brats--erm, sorry, princes--are experts at sulking. It's part of their training. Or perhaps it's genetic? Anyway, Zechs surpassed any I've ever even heard of. Heck, you just have to ask the wrong question, and he will silently stand up and simply walk into the next room, where he will sit down with a frown and ignore you for the next ten minutes. Well, all right, maybe he doesn't walk out when /I/ ask annoying questions, but that's /me/, not normal people. As it works pretty well as far as making an annoyingly nosy person stop, I can see why he still uses the tactic. I might even ask him for lessons. Or Heero, maybe--he uses it too. And it's the only way to handle Duo, it seems. . .  
  
Sorry, I digress again.  
  
In any case, Zechs wasn't kidding when he said to Howard that he intended to bury himself under a rock for a while.  
  
Zechs played dead for the next year or so better than Treize!  
  
Not a hint, not a word, not a glimpse of Zechs in all that time. Not even a rumor, which is more than Treize could say. People decided he must have committed suicide. After all that chocolate, it was a strong possibility, you know. Such a massive high would cause a depressing low beyond what most people could endure. But suicide? Not Zechs's style. Besides, the note proved otherwise.  
  
I should know how low you can get. I stole some of Zechs's chocolate during the Chocolate War, after all. I was on a bit of a low myself--not that I could get my hands on much to begin with. But I had more experience with sugar ups and downs. I knew what to do.  
  
I sent in a subscription for Swiss Colony's fancy food catalogue and began looking for a job to pay for all the chocolate I ordered from it.  
  
You see, when you're addicted to something, it's best to ease off gradually. Cold turkey doesn't usually work, after all.  
  
In my own difficulty, however, I rather forgot that the Gundam boys were in the same predicament as Zechs. Not that I could give Zechs advice--when he hides under a rock and sulks and sobs, the only way to find him is by leaving no rock on Earth unturned.  
  
I didn't have the energy for moving all that turf yet. Later, yes, but not yet.  
  
Besides, I know Zechs well. He doesn't like having an audience when he feels depressed. It's embarrassing. It's one thing to sniffle a bit against a friend or lover's shoulder, then wipe your eyes and resume life, no harm done to either side, no pride lost. It's another if you're almost hysterically pounding that shoulder black and blue, and sobbing up a storm that's drenching them from throat to beltline. Well, that's why Zechs left. He's male, and an ex-prince, for heaven's sake. He might do that to a teddy-bear, but not a human being. And Goodbye--the unhappy-looking near twin to my cheerful personal favorite Mr. Wuffles--was always available for loan.  
  
So he borrowed it.  
  
No matter. Zechs would pop back out when he felt like it anyway. I missed him, though.  
  
So Zechs was under a rock, the Gundam boys were either doing the same or sobbing on anything that came within arm's reach, Treize was playing possum, and I. . .  
  
I was stuffing my face. Swiss Colony makes great chocolate, you know. Not healthy, but hey, is chocolate ever?  
  
Then Mariemaia made her announcement, and as the saying in Lake Victoria goes. . .  
  
Well, do you know what happens when a bird gets pulled into an engine? Not pretty. The bird is pureed better than any blender can, and the engine pretty much self-destructs with Heero-like efficiency by the sheer velocity of flying. . . /bits/. You could never tell what species of bird were most prone to getting sucked in, because there were never big enough pieces to figure out what any of them were beforehand. You were lucky if you could identify the /engine/, really. Heck, you were lucky if your plane arrived in identifiable pieces after that!  
  
Well, guess what.  
  
A whole /flock/ hit the jets.  
  
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"Would you like the Regular Concentrated Quadruple-Chocolate Mocha Espresso or Decaf?" the cheery teenage Starbucks employee of the month asked with the enthusiasm of one overly exposed to caffeine on a regular basis.  
  
The blonde-haired man eyed her darkly over his sunglasses with intent to kill, giving no vocal answer, though implying that Decaf was a joke on humanity.  
  
"Regular then." From her reaction, this girl was used to death-glares. She went swiftly--and inexplicably cheerfully--about filling a white cup with pictures of Gundams plastered all over the sides, then popping a white anti-spill cap on top.  
  
//Does Heero Yuy frequent this establishment?// The tall blonde shoved his glasses back over his eyes and reached for the Styrofoam cup with the air of a prince forced to reach for pig slop. //Quadruple Mocha-Chocolate my ass. . . It's still white when it foams.//  
  
"And you, sir, what would you like?" the girl behind the counter was continuing, turning to the man's companion with such enthusiasm as if unable to see her new poor target's sickly smile under lengthening tawny- copper bangs.  
  
"The world and space on a platter?" the unhappily resigned-looking fellow tried, in hopes of drawing a few smiles.  
  
Icy blue eyes briefly glared over dark glasses at him so scathingly that it was a wonder the scent of burned flesh didn't fill the air in its wake. //Don't even /think/ about it.//  
  
Sighing wearily, Treize dropped his feeble smile and muttered, "The same." Then added under his breath, "Lord knows I need the caffeine boost."  
  
"Don't even start," warned his blonde companion, who had begun taking a sip of his distasteful order and didn't bother looking at the target of his harsh comment.  
  
//I need my chocolate. . . Why did they confiscate all the hot chocolate, baked chocolate desserts, chocolate bars, boxes of chocolate, and chocolate ice cream at her command? It's awful! /Someone/ has to stand up to this injustice!// He frowned at his cup. It tasted foul. //Don't they even have chocolate syrup left?//  
  
Accepting his cup, Treize tossed a handful of bills at the annoyingly- cheerful Starbucks employee and accompanied Zechs back outside. In unison, they both aimed synchronized frowns at the stars above. . . Two pairs of war-weary eyes sent the same glare at the target of their frustration, a particular colony high above: the kind of look that has every intent of spanking the target, and not in a happy way, though one had more of a furiously-parental air. Then the pair began walking quietly down the deserted, dark streets like newly re-met old companions, with the familiar air of brothers by blood. . .  
  
And arguing like blood relatives, too.  
  
But there had to be something, somewhere, that Zechs could use to satisfy his chocoholic addiction. The pseudo-chocolate taste (but realistic smell) coffee provided could offer some hope, but he couldn't live off hope alone. This called for hard-core creativity. Especially if he needed a chocolate- level sugar-high when chocolate itself was really scarce.  
  
//Maybe. . . maybe, just /maybe/, they forgot to take the sprinkles. . .//  
  
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"She's /your/ daughter."  
  
"/You/ are the one who started the I-must-take-over-all-chocolate business."  
  
"Heck, I /refuse/ to knuckle down under that. The years I hid with you in Oz were sheer hell! I'd rather you /did/ leave me with the babysitters back then!"  
  
"Well, now we're stuck. She swore to take over all chocolate factories and demanded all shipments be redirected to her if the colonies still wanted to exist. I bet you that right before all this she hijacked a shipment of colonial chocolate like you did--that's the only explanation."  
  
"I thought Lady Une could make sure they were protected with that Preventers organization of hers. Do you think your daughter could take all that on and win, even with all that?"  
  
"I thought you incapable of drawing anything that remotely resembles a face. Look what you did to the moon."  
  
"To chet. Ah well. . . You know the Gundam pilots won't stand for it, though."  
  
"She /did/ promise them a big share if they would join her."  
  
"Hmph. . . There are better things than just chocolate, and I'm sure most of them know that."  
  
"Oh? And how did you learn that?"  
  
"Noin. Kind of."  
  
"Ah. . . Well, so what are we going to do about this?"  
  
"Hmmm. . ."  
  
"Don't tell me you don't have a plan, Zechs!"  
  
"Well what about you? She's /your/ kid, after all!"  
  
"I most certainly DO have a plan!"  
  
". . . ?"  
  
". . . I'll spank her when she gets home."  
  
"I don't think that's going to work against hundreds of mobile suits, Treize. You might break your hand."  
  
"So you've a better idea, Mister I-Will-Destroy-The-World-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Hic- Cough? I swear, that was the stupidest thing you announced as you were attacking those Romefeller bases on Earth. . . No wonder they're talking about making chocolate a controlled substance."  
  
"Well excuse me if I was higher than a pipsqueak on helium and choked in the middle of it! It's not my fault I couldn't regulate my sugar dosage at the time, when the Alliance never let us try any to find out our tolerance levels. And yes, I do have a better idea. . ."  
  
"Pray, tell."  
  
"Let's contact Lady Une and find out what she's doing."  
  
"I am /not/ talking to that woman."  
  
"Oh don't tell me you two argued /again/!? For God's sake, Treize, you have the /worst/ timing, I swear!"  
  
"I am not doing it, I tell you. I refuse to apologize first."  
  
"Gahhh! And you wonder why your child fell in with the wrong crowd."  
  
"If you want to contact her, by all means, go ahead!"  
  
"Fine! But /you/ get the rumble seat in the back of Tallgeese when we go after your kid!"  
  
"Fine!"  
  
"Fine!"  
  
". . . Um. . . Zechs, why are we heading for that ice-cream shop, then? It's closed. You have a cell-phone. You don't need theirs, anyway."  
  
"I am not talking to anyone rationally without my Espresso."  
  
"That /is/ Espresso in your hand."  
  
"No it's not."  
  
". . ."  
  
"It's not Expresso until it has chocolate-colored foam and is so thick you have to eat it like a slurpy."  
  
". . ."  
  
"Besides, I always add real chocolate to my Expresso because that pseudo- chocolate taste they have these days sucks. Not to mention that this stuff doesn't even have /that/ anymore."  
  
". . ."  
  
"It's great with sprinkles, Treize. They glitter like tiny stars in your cup."  
  
"Zechs. . ."  
  
"I like to dunk Oreo cookies in mine, too, sometimes. I guess Oreo chips or chunks of chocolate-chip cookie-dough will have to do. . . /if/ they have them. . ."  
  
"Zeeeechs. . ."  
  
"Hey! They look like they have chocolate syrup! The authorities didn't get /everything/!"  
  
"ZECHS!"  
  
"/What/?"  
  
". . . Here. Just make mine into one, too."  
  
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Of course, Wufei, not used to the Western food known as chocolate and having no idea there was more to life than just the colonial type from the Chocolate War, gave in to Mariemaia's offer.  
  
The rest of the Gundam pilots knew better. So did I--and Lady Une. That's why she gave me a call.  
  
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Warily, Noin flipped open her cellular phone, frowning at the shuttle cockpit around her. //Where's Sally to copilot when you need her?// "Noin here."  
  
"Noin? We have a situation."  
  
//Ex-Lady Anne Une.// "Um. . . yes?" //What am I supposed to say to that? Is it a true-false question or short-answer? Heck, I should extend this vacation--go blow something up, maybe. All that teaching new recruits during the rest of the year is starting to get to me.//  
  
"I need the recipe for the strongest monster you can think of. All of the Gundam pilots except Wufei are intent on stopping the girl, but we need backup."  
  
"Er. . ." //Backup against the powers of chocolate? I go purely for the real thing.//  
  
"You have to have one! You're our only hope!"  
  
"Um. . . did you hear from Zechs lately?" //He's the only one I know of to actually /make/ backup. . . I think he needed to, trying to keep up with Treize's caffeine runs with no large amounts of any particular dessert on hand. . .//  
  
"Somewhat. . . why?"  
  
"Just get some of what he's got in his hand. I imagine he's been working on some condensed form of heart-attack medication stuff capable of jumping your heart better than adrenaline shots, now that he hasn't had access to such a substantial amount of pure chocolate." //I swear, half those creations of his could give life back to the dead!//  
  
"Erg!"  
  
"Yeah. I know. But he always experimented with the stuff I smuggled to him at Lake Victoria." //That was scary enough. Especially when he began playing with Red Bull, Jolt, and Mountain Dew, too. . .//  
  
"Gulg!"  
  
"Some of it ended up as concoctions I wouldn't touch out of fear for high voltage shock."  
  
"Not the pure-solid-see-through-crystal-sugar, surely?"  
  
"Not /yet/. Probably more due to him not having a clue where to shop for those than a lack of trying." //And I, for one, am never going to tell him. He was popping that stuff like popcorn when he had to face Heero in Siberia.//  
  
"Ulg!"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"How does he swallow that stuff?"  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine! It makes his mastery of Tallgeese seem inconsequential. Then again, maybe the one led to the other--he /did/ kind of do better right around when he started breaking the other rules the Alliance kept over us. . . And that would have meant he could. . . create with more variety, you could say." //If he could adapt to one giving him heart attacks, I imagine he could to the other.//  
  
"All right, well, I'll have him email the latest recipe to the lot of us."  
  
"I think I'll pass, thanks." //Not for me!//  
  
"You /are/ fighting with us, right?"  
  
"Yeah. But I'm partial to all my caffeine coming from the same dessert confection, thank you." //Pure chocolate--that's it. No nuts, no sprinkles, no other kinds of chocolate, no coffee, no added sugar, no nothing, just the one thing: chocolate.//  
  
"Well, in that case, we'll see you after the battle. . . That is, /if/ we can get Heero to explain the concept of chocolate in coffee to a sugar-high Wufei. . . If not, well, we'll say hello on the other side--just remember, walk towards the light and tell all the other voices in the background to go get a life."  
  
//Um, Une, I knew the situation was bad, but now you're starting to scare me. Especially considering I thought you reduced your caffeine intake after you started the personality switcheroo.// "Er. . . yes, Anne, see you then."  
  
Noin hung up and flipped her phone closed with a quiet sigh.  
  
Just time time, Sally wandered in to arch a blonde eyebrow at the sound. "Why the long face?" she asked, smiling slowly.  
  
The raven-haired young woman just shook her head, making a face. //You might regret asking, old friend.// "Anne wants to charge the pilots up with something stronger than chocolate."  
  
The blonde blanched.  
  
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On the bright side, Heero and Duo came up with their own evil recipes, thank you. Duo is, after all, another expert on natural highs. Frankly, I don't think he has ever come down during the entire time I've known him. Maybe he will be a good influence on Heero. That kid needs to cheer up, after all.  
  
Battle was engaged. We attacked Serpents, Serpents attacked us, and Zechs finally blew up at Treize for backseat flying and dumped him on the street in the middle of it. So he lent Anne a hand at sneaking into the compound after his sugar-high daughter. As for Wufei, well, Heero ran into him in the atmosphere somewhere and explained the double hyperactivity only a combination of chocolate and coffee--the point of all Chocolate Mocha s-- could create.  
  
Wufei immediately folded.  
  
That pair then set about helping the rest of us blast all resistance to Kingdom Come and free the chocolate again. You know pseudo-chocolate (chocolate "flavor", it calls itself) is never like the real thing, after all.  
  
Not that we were too careful about targeting during the fray. I think we took out some of the rallies with people picketing for chocolate to become a controlled substance, two shops that served sludge not worthy of calling coffee, and a the majority of telemarketing firms while we were at it. Anne pointed out that it really wasn't worth investigating. Nobody protested or complained, so why bother?  
  
In the end, Relena, who had been invited over by Mariemaia because of family friendship (despite Dekim's attempts to influence otherwise), decided to offer a few of her brother's recipes for a bit of Mariemaia's hoarded chocolate. They fell into trading stories about the stuff like the best of buddies almost instantly (God help us!). Of course, that meant Mariemaia began to share her goodies with her new friends, and was thrilled to find that Dekim was wrong--sharing /is/ okay, and actually quite fun, especially when your friends end up bouncing off the walls /with/ you. . .  
  
And after that. . . well, "daddy" arrived. No, he was not pleased. Plus he was flying on a healthy dose of sugar and caffeine himself. Dekim didn't stand a chance.  
  
The party was over.  
  
Too bad. Though they still mutter about making chocolate a controlled substance. . . wisely, nobody dares actively carry picket signs, hand out fliers, or hold rallies for that cause anymore. Considering Mariemaia actually tried that, well, good luck on that getting passed, anyway. Especially as Treize threatened to spank the next person to try taking control of it all, too!  
  
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Zechs walked over to where Noin was sitting in the hospital waiting room, looking glum, his smile gently sympathetic, and a white Styrofoam cup in hand.  
  
"Well, look what turned up," she murmured with a weary chuckle. "I /knew/ that it would take something like your sister running off to some unsupervised party to get you out from under your rock finally!"  
  
The tall blonde man shrugged a little, sending his hair rippling. "Actually, I wasn't /that/ far under a rock. You actually gave me a clue to finding an early cure. I just had to experiment a bit to get it right finally." A hand thrust the cup at her. "Here. The answer to all our problems."  
  
"You mean it'll heal those ribs Heero broke by laughing too hard?"  
  
"No. Just try it."  
  
Noin eyed the cup dubiously. It was one of those taller Styrofoam containers, innocently pure white but large, and peeking in the top only showed her chocolate-brown foam. Of course, considering it was one of Zechs's concoctions, the appearance meant nothing. The man knew how to use a blender, after all.  
  
"You were watching me?" she asked uncertainly.  
  
The Tallgeese pilot snorted and smirked. "Of course. And in doing so, I followed you to Starbucks. . ."  
  
Glancing back into the white cup, Noin began to wonder if the substance within would purr if poked. You never knew with substances charged with sugar. Sometimes they seemed like some species of body-snatcher from an old sci-fi film, they changed the consumer so drastically. You never know, after all. . .  
  
"Just try it. It's not that bad, I promise."  
  
Noin sniffed over the rim cautiously. "Well. . . it smells like chocolate. Starbucks, you said?"  
  
Flushing a bit sheepishly, Zechs teetered a hand in the air. "Sort of. . . I. . . ah. . . added a couple things."  
  
Sighing, the raven-haired young woman accepted the cup, and placed her lips to the edge, closing her eyes. After a moment, one blue-violet eye peeked open and narrowed accusingly at her blonde friend. "If I literally start bouncing around and hurt something, /you'll/ be the next one in the hospital, you know," she warned him.  
  
Smiling brightly, the blonde nodded. "I know."  
  
With a grunt of disbelief, Noin closed her eyes again and opened her mouth and tilted the cup.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Blue-violet eyes snapped open, then pulled away from the cup to aim a frown of disbelief at the contents. . . which didn't seem to understand gravity. Tilting the cup completely on its side, she tilted her head, eyebrows arching. "Just how am I supposed to try this thing, anyway?" she asked.  
  
Reaching for the cup, Zechs joined her frown with one of his own. "Well damn! One sec. It needs more coffee. Any will do, even sludge." Turning, he dashed off down the hall. . .  
  
Noin just blinked in his wake.  
  
A minute later, the ex-Lightening Baron came shooting back along the white- walled corridor, beaming triumphantly, cup raised like an Olympic torch and now wearing a white cap over the contents. Skidding to a halt before Noin, he clamped a hand over either end of the cup--and shook it vigorously enough to briefly make him look like a dandelion, his hair flying about so wildly.  
  
With a playful bow, he handed it back. "Try now."  
  
Shaking her head at him with a bemused smile, Noin snapped the cap off, closed her eyes, and tilted it into her mouth. . .  
  
. . . And came back up for air with wide eyes.  
  
"It tastes like. . . chocolate! You made coffee that actually /tastes/ like chocolate without adding tons of the real thing?!"  
  
"Yes, well, I have to admit that I hate things that don't taste as good as they smell. So I changed it a bit--added stuff. You know, like marshmallows, some sesame stuff called hulva--"  
  
Quickly, Noin placed a finger over Zechs's lips. "I don't want to know," she interrupted quickly, smiling warmly at his surprised expression.  
  
Unfortunately, Noin removed her finger again.  
  
"To be honest, it's not half as strong as the recipe for the stuff Treize and I had beforehand, though it still has a fair kick and a better taste. . . At least it tastes right. It's really much better if you add Hershey's syrup, sprinkles--"  
  
This time, the dark-haired woman used a whole hand to stop him before another sentence could begin. "Enough! What I /do/ want to know, though, is. . . now what? We've high Gundam pilots again, not to mention your Queen of the World sister and her new friend who's likely to end up Heir-to- be. And /all/ of them are sugar-happy teenagers. As are /we/! If you introduce this to them, I've no idea how the world's going to survive us all!"  
  
"Huh." Brushing some long hair back over an ear and out of his way once released again, Zechs considered that a moment, then smiled a slow, predatory grin as a new idea dawned. . . "You know, there's that Mars Terraforming project Relena was trying to recruit people into. I'm sure it could benefit from us expending a little pent-up energy. . ."  
  
"Hmmm. . . ," Noin stated dreamily, taking another sip of the slightly slurpy-like "chocolate" coffee as she considered the potential for playing with explosives and rearranging terrain in drastic ways. "They /did/ confirm that cocoa and sugar-cane grow pretty well there, right?"  
  
Zechs smirked evilly. "And I hear Starbucks is moving in. . ."  
  
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What can I say?  
  
Wouldn't YOU go jumping at an opportunity like that?  
  
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---Come Fly With Me---  
  
Come fly with me, let's fly let's fly away If you can use, some exotic booze There's a bar in far Bombay Come fly with me, we'll fly we'll fly away  
  
Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru In lama land, there's a one man band And he'll toot his flute for you Come fly with me, we'll float down in the blue  
  
Once I get you up there, where the air is rarefied We'll just glide, starry eyed Once I get you up there, I'll be holding you so near You may hear, angels cheer - because were together  
  
Weather wise it's such a lovely day You just say the words, and we'll beat the birds Down to Acapulco Bay It's perfect, for a flying honeymoon - they say Come fly with me, we'll fly we'll fly away 


End file.
